


when i'm ready to be bolder

by feathertofly



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, First Kiss, Flower Child Harry, Genderswap, Punk Louis, girl!Harry, girl!Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 10:48:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feathertofly/pseuds/feathertofly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>her hair is cherry red today, accenting the bits of black metal twisting around her eyebrow. pairing that with the black leather skirt and the oversized grateful dead shirt, and harry can almost see how easy it would be to miss the sparkle of mischief in her blue eyes, or the tender way her fingers rub at the inside of her wrist when she's nervous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when i'm ready to be bolder

**Author's Note:**

> this is a present for my girl seaholly, who is one of the bravest people i know. hope you like it, lover! the title is from home by gabrielle aplin, who is the minstrel of your soul :)

the bell over the door of the cafe rings, and harry tightens her grip on the counter, trying to will her heartbeat to slow down. the bell rings dozens of times a day, there shouldn't be anything special about it this time, but there is. it's just past half three and it's louis coming through the door, of course. she's as steady as the tide, coming every other day at exactly three thirty eight, because it takes eight minutes to get from her psycholgy class to the little cafe on the other side of campus. she'll stay for an hour, usually, and harry's sun rises and sets with her arrival. 

"hazza, darling, give us a smile. today's been dreadful," louis proclaims, throwing herself dramatically across the counter. "i can't think of a single thing good that's happened until i walked through that door."  
her hair is cherry red today, accenting the bits of black metal twisting around her eyebrow. pairing that with the black leather skirt and the oversized grateful dead shirt, and harry can almost see how easy it would be to miss the sparkle of mischief in her blue eyes, or the tender way her fingers rub at the inside of her wrist when she's nervous. 

"sounds wretched, want to talk about it?" harry asks quietly, smiling at louis obediently. 

louis gives a small smile back, tucking her tongue between her teeth just enough for harry to catch a glimpse of the black ball sitting there.

"was fine, love," louis says, raising up to tuck her chin in her hands and gaze at harry in a way that makes her want to blush, "just wanted a smile off of you." 

harry rolls her eyes at that, and turns so louis won't see how deeply she dimples at that. "the usual?" she calls over her shoulder. 

"oh harry, you read me like a book. please and thank you." 

harry bustles around to make a cup of what she privately calls louis tea. the first time louis came in she'd ordered a cup of yorkshire, and after a few sips she'd come back to the counter and slid it back to harry. _you can do better than this, flowerchild_ she'd said with a little knowing grin, raising an eyebrow at the daisies harry had weaved in her mess of curls that morning. louis had hopped over the counter without another word and after reaching out hesitantly and seeing no fear in harry's eyes, she'd wrapped her arms tight around harry's waist and led her through the steps of why she insisted was the only true way to make tea - tea first, then milk, sugar is an abomination - and then backed away with a smile. harry had expected something at that point, honestly, and had been more than a little disappointed when the other girl had walked out after an hour of giggling and teasing with nothing more than a tip of an imaginary hat, but then louis had returned the next day, and the next. harry's forgotten how to make yorkshire any other way.

by the time louis’ tea is finished, liam has made his way up from the back to take over the front counter while harry sits with louis and has a lemon and honey tea of her own. he winks at her as she ducks under the barrier, and there’s nothing but kindness in his eyes as he watches them. harry is sure she should feel bad on some level about taking a little longer than normal break every day, but she pushes hard to make up for it and, well. liam has eyes, he can see. 

the two girls settle into an oversized loveseat near the front window. it’s louis’ favorite because when she doesn’t have any interesting stories to tell, she likes to look out the window and make up lives for the people bustling past, going about their daily lives. a woman carrying a wicker basket becomes the woman who sells flowers at the corner shop, a man with a briefcase is writing the next great novel and carrying around hundreds of loose leaf sheets in the briefcase, and in a few minutes he’ll trip and fall and lose it all, and have to start from scratch but it will be better this time. 

harry likes it best because of the way the rain dripping down the window reflects on louis’ face, softens her somehow. 

today louis tells harry about a prank she and her flatmate perrie pulled on their friend zayn, bleaching a streak of his hair in his sleep. by the end harry is in stitches and has the sleeve of her oversized sweater nearly stuffed into her mouth to keep the laughter from rolling out. louis looks properly pleased with herself. 

"they sound incredible, lou, you should bring them round sometime." 

louis ducks her head and gnaws at her lip a bit, absentmindedly tracing a finger over the veins in her wrists. "i dunno, hazza, i kind of..." she looks up through her eyelashes and harry's breath catches in her throat. when louis reaches out and tucks an errant curl behind harry's ear she can't help turning her face and nuzzling into the touch a bit. "i'd kind of like to keep you to myself, just for a bit longer." 

harry bites her lip and it's one of those moments where time is standing absolutely frozen. louis's eyes are wide and tentative, searching harry's face for any indication that she should stop, and harry's been waiting for months. she doesn't want to wait anymore. 

she reaches out and cups louis's face with a hand, the corner of her mouth quirking up as she brushes against her eyebrow piercing. she leans forward slowly, giving louis enough time to back away if she wants (and maybe to give her heart enough time to settle back in her chest instead of pounding in her throat). instead of backing out louis stays frozen, except for her tiny pink tongue that darts out and wets her lips. harry tracks the motion with her eyes, and when louis' eyes drop shut harry leans in and ever so gently brushes their lips together. 

kissing louis is a sensory experience unlike anything harry has ever experiences, really. she can smell the old spice that louis wears, can taste the tea and evergreen mint gum on her breath. when louis opens her mouth and recproicates the kiss, harry can feel the metal ball in her tongue swipe against her own lips and she can't hold back a bit of a moan at that. louis makes a few sounds of her own when harry strokes her hand down louis' neck and then rubs her thumb against the tattoo spread across her collarbone. harry's wanted to do that since the first moment she laid eyes on louis, and the experience doesn't disappoint.  
they kiss for either a minute or an hour and harry is pretty sure she'd be content to keep going for another hundred years, but liam fake coughs as loud as he can, and another patron lets out a low wolf whistle and, right. public. harry hates public, she wants to lock louis away in a tower and keep her away from the whole world. maybe after her shift is over. 

they've stopped kissing, but haven't moved much; louis has practically crawled into her lap and tucked her head into the crook of harry's neck. 

"have dinner with me?" she asks quietly as she reaches up and toys with the circlet of rosebuds sitting on harry's head. "i'm a crap cook and i'll probably burn everything, we may end up eating cold cereal but just, please. i'll clean the kitchen and even set out real silverwear, and we can watch a movie or go on a walk, or do anything you want, really, just..." 

louis' voice is soft and tentative, like it's unusual for her to ask for the things she wants. lucky for her, harry has a thing for being a people pleaser, especially for punk girls with red hair and quick tongues and eyes the color of the sea. 

"i suppose i could be persuaded," harry says teasingly, letting her fingers 'trace down the compass that’s tattooed on louis’ forearm. she laughs as louis sinks her teeth into the closest skin available, which is, as it turns out, a particularly sensitive spot right beneath harry’s ear. she lets out a huff of breath and instinctively clenched her thighs. 

"got lots of persuasive techniques, me," louis says in a deceptively calm voice, like she's not systematically picking harry's heart and body apart piece by piece. 

"can't wait to find out," she replies. 

they stay coiled together like that for as long as they can, talking and touching now that they're allowed, and when louis has to leave for her next class, harry has a few random words and shapes drawn all over her arms, along with an address and time to be at louis' apartment that night. 

"took you long enough," liam teases when harry ducks back under the barrier and behind the counter. 

harry grins a little and rubs at the star louis had traced underneath her sweater. "nah," she says absently, "it's right when it's meant to happen." 


End file.
